


Week One - Heat

by Trojie



Series: Trojie's Pornathon 2017 [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 13:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11276427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: Arthur has a logistical issue.





	Week One - Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this year's Pornathon, prompt: "heat".

By the time Arthur realises what's going on, it's too late to do anything more than be annoyed with himself. 

He waits, in the sweltering heat, for Rodriguez to leave for the night, then turns to the sofa in the corner where Eames is lounging in a nest of paper. 'I need your help with a logistical issue,' he says. Eames looks up from his notes. His expression goes from mildly irked at being interrupted to laser-focused in two seconds. 

'I wondered,' he admits. 'But it doesn't do to presume.'

'Let me be clear, then,' Arthur says, and gets up. 'I either take the rest of the week off and sweat this out -'

'- and we miss our deadline -'

'- or I utilise the resources at hand, and only lose tonight.'

Eames shuffles his papers carefully to one side, then opens his arms. 'I'm always happy to be utilised by you, darling.'

Arthur rolls his eyes, but starts fumbling with his belt. Eames may be all bullshit but at least he's no-nonsense. Arthur's fingers, shaky with sudden-onset need, slip on the leather. Eames reaches out and snags his beltloops. 

'Now, don't spoil all my fun,' he says, and pulls Arthur onto his lap. The second he gets his fingers between linen and skin, the facade Arthur didn't realise was a facade collapses. It's too hot in this room, this suit, this _skin_ \- he's been holding it in and now suddenly his body is letting go without his say-so. He just needs to fuck this out, get this over with. He just _needs this_. 

Eames's mouth touches his throat. 'Hey, pet,' he says softly. 'Let's get you out of all this nonsense, hmm?' But when Arthur's naked, the feel on his skin is barely different - air stifling, thick, blanketing. Eames's hands smooth down the Jacob's ladder of his ribs, his hips, his ass. 'Better?'

Arthur's dripping down his thighs. 'Better if you were fucking me.'

Eames manhandles him til they're back-to-chest, arm tight around his waist. 'Okay,' he says, and lifts Arthur like he weighs less than a kitten. 

Arthur spreads his thighs and moans when Eames's cock pushes stiffly at him. Tomorrow Arthur will feel some kind of way about this whole encounter, like he always does after he takes advantage like this, but right now -

'Christ, Arthur,' says Eames faintly, holding tight. 'Alright, love, I've got you.' 

'Just fuck me,' Arthur growls, trying to push harder, betrayed by the instinct to go compliant when someone's teeth are bared like that against the nape of his neck. 'Eames, don't - just _do it_ , for God's sake.'

'If you can't walk tomorrow Rodriguez will figure this out,' Eames half-snarls at him. Arthur can't help grinning at getting even the tiniest sliver of animal reaction out of him. He hates being out of control but if he's not the only one, it's not so bad. Eames's grip on him is slippery with Arthur's sweat. One last hard wrench of his body and he's split to the core, finally _full_.

Arthur grinds hard down in victory and Eames shudders under him. 'Christ,' he says again. 'Fine, you win.'

'Damn straight,' Arthur growls, and arches his back and starts to ride as hard as he can. 'Get me off, c'mon.'

'Pushy,' says Eames, feral layer finally showing. Arthur wants Eames when he's like this - even though he shouldn't - because Eames always has whatever it takes to match what Arthur's got.

'Make me behave,' Arthur shoots back. He turns his head sideways and nips at Eames's throat, play-biting, and then suddenly, he's face-down in the cushions and Eames is pounding his ass so hard his knees are creaking. 

'This what you want?' Eames demands, but it's not mean-alpha dominance, it's Eames, who always has to give the extra fucking cherry on top of every performance. 

His mouth finds the back of Arthur's neck and Arthur tenses, sure that this time he'll get bitten, that this'll be it - but instead Eames kisses him there, soft against his hairline, and Arthur's body crashes like a tidal wave.

When he comes back to himself, Eames is tied firm inside him, still hitching his hips in a way that makes Arthur's body melt like sugar.

'Thanks,' says Arthur hoarsely. 'For not - y'know.' Because a hundred alphas would have. Which is why normally Arthur gets his timing right and goes for suppressants. 

Eames laughs, low in his throat. 'As if anyone could ever claim you.'


End file.
